


Royalty

by haruonlyswimsfree



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alpha/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Royalty AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8680030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haruonlyswimsfree/pseuds/haruonlyswimsfree
Summary: In the kingdom of Kiseki, everyone is born either omega or alpha. Just after the age of puberty, a person finds out their genetic hierarchy, and later finds a mate, generally of the opposite kind. But the family of Kiseki, their immortal father, King Kiseki, the land's namesake, being the founder from centuries back, aren't allowed a choice in the matter. They are prohibited from mating, as it could distract them from schoolwork (only alphas are allowed an education) and royal duties. Their sole purpose is not to continue the line of pure-blooded alphas, but stand as a form of backup, should their father ever fall. However, chaos breaks loose when the first-ever omega servants are allowed to work in the ancient castle.





	1. Welcome to the Castle

**Author's Note:**

> so i found the landfill that is kuroko no basket,, and i decided to try my hand at an alpha/omega thing that i thought up. sorry for the cheesy summary, i'll try not to make the actual fic that tooth-rottingly ridiculous ^^;;- basically, the generation of miracles (minus kuroko and momoi) are the alpha princes, (i see kuroko as a bottom ((to kagami ;)), and i decided to not break the pattern so he's not in this one) and this is them falling for their omega maids. akafuri will be the main ship. i've actually tried writing three other knb fanfics since i started watching it but all three got deleted :''. sorry for rambling, here's the actual story!!~~

The fifteenth generation of Kiseki saw five sons being born in the same year. Due to his immortality, the king had chosen to never become mated, instead having many children all at once with different women, once the youngest of his previous bout of offspring reached the age of 80, or once they had all passed away, if that occurred sooner. This time around, he had been lucky enough that all five of the women and their children had not died in childbirth, though no one is quite sure what became of the female omegas after the great honor of carrying one of the king's sons.

 

The five children are as follows; Kiseki Ryouta, Kiseki Shintarou, Kiseki Daiki, Kiseki Atsushi, and Kiseki Seijuro. The brothers had lived a long life of luxury, maids catering to their every needs since their long-awaited births sixteen years ago. Naturally, as the alpha genes are dominant to the omega genes, they had been shown as alphas, though they weren't as pure-blooded as their father. As their expectations as royalty increased with age, so did the afternoons spent much like this one; relaxing in anyone but Atsushi's room, as the violet-haired giant somehow always had stolen snack wrappers littering his floor and spilling from his bags, no matter how often the cleaners ran through his room. They had all long-since draped themselves over some piece of furniture in their chosen room, today's unspoken get-together being held in Ryouta's room, the surroundings somehow almost as sparkling as the boy himself.

 

They silently watched some teen drama on the large TV propped upon a cream wall, in which a girl was crying because her alpha boyfriend had chosen another omega just as she had been about to suggest they get mated, the calm silence only being broken by the canned laughter ringing from the top-quality speakers and the crunch of Atsushi's chips between his teeth.

 

"Do you ever wish we were born more normal?" Was the question that sprung from Daiki's lips. Of all of the princes, the bluenette had always been the least comfortable with the constant fussing made over their every move, and would much rather be left alone in his room than face the paparazzi and female omegas begging to be their mates despite how futile it was, though he did very much enjoy looking at the occasional girl, so long as they (their chests) were up to his standard.

 

"No, the maids give me plenty of food and don't make me talk to people I don't like," Atsushi spoke from the floor between slow mouthfuls of pocky. Ryouta snickered, knowing that was only because they were all terrified of his looming stature. "I don't really mind, so long as those girls can't get to us. I love how dedicated they are, but man, I didn't know omegas could be so scary!" Ryouta shuddered in memory of an incident from months past, and made a mental note to thank the castle guards the next time he got a chance.

 

"Obviously we were given this life for a reason, I'd rather just live it than question how we landed it. After all, we owe everything to fate," Shintarou piped up, green eyes trained on the ridiculous scene plastered across the bright screen of the television. The room once again fell silent, a pair of ruby eyes trailing around the still figures of his brothers from their owner's perch atop a velvet chair in the corner of the bedroom.

 

A soft rapping on the door became barely audible over the now muted voices of the show. "Ryouta-sama, the king is asking for you and your brothers in the entry hall." The high, clear voice of a maid pierced through the hazy evening air.

 

"Ah, thank you. They're in here, we'll be down in a moment."

 

"Thank you, sir." And with that, she scurried down the long hallway, footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors. The boys stood up, languidly stretching their lanky limbs, before they began their journey down the flights of stairs. Daiki yawned, sliding his tan elbow along the polished wood banister, his Prussian blue sweater aiding his descent.

 

"I wonder why he called us down? I mean, it's not like he really ever talks to us," Atsushi drawled. Ryouta snorted in response.

 

"I heard some maids saying that the king is allowing omegas to work here, and he picked five random ones from the village as a sort of experiment. Apparently, they're all our age," Seijuro spoke, his voice sharp.

 

Ryouta blinked. "Really?! I guess you're the only one that pays attention around here, Seijurocchi," he laughed.

 

Once they arrived downstairs, they found their father lounging on one of his many thrones throughout the house, the monstrous hardwood doors exposing the family's private garden wide open, as five males sat bowed before the king halfway down the hallway, guards in all corners of the room. As the princes neared, they could immediately tell they were omegas. They could  _smell_ it. It's not as though they had never smelled an omega before, but every time they went out, their bodyguards were constantly surrounding them, and they were required to wear scent repellents so that the most the brothers had ever been faced with a raw omega scent was just a whiff or two. But here, here there were five, unmarked, unmasked, omegas. The effect was nearly dizzying. Naturally, once they started working, the king would give them suppressants for their heats and scent masks along with their uniforms.

 

The five boys stood up as the brothers moved to stand on either side of their father. Here, Seijuro got a better view of the newbies. The one on the farthest left had silky black hair parted down the middle, and icy blue eyes that seemed to see everything. He wasn't particularly tall or short, and the Cheshire grin stretched across his face only grew wider when he caught sight of Shintarou. The next one over was about the same height, but less built than the previous. His soft tan hair fell in fluffy strands along his pale forehead, and his pleading brown eyes made it obvious he was very terrified of being in such a huge place with such important people. The boy in the middle had smooth raven hair that fell gracefully over one of his eyes, the other stone grey with a small beauty mark beneath it, holding a look that could be mistaken for boredom if you didn't look closely. His pale skin seemed to glow, and he wore a small, sweet smile. He was taller than Seijuro himself. The fourth looked very angry to be there, poorly concealing it with a fake smile. He was more tanned than the others, and had evident muscles. His build was small, but the look in his teal eyes was scary enough on its own, his thick eyebrows slightly furrowed. Short strands of soft, off-black hair framed his slim face.

 

The boy closest to him was what caught Seijuro's attention, though. He had tousled hazelnut hair that shone in the light from the chandeliers above their heads, and light, rare freckles dotted his tan skin. The king asked the boy a question, but the redhead couldn't hear what it was; it fell onto deaf ears when the small boy stuttered out a reply, his cute nose scrunching up as a light blush dusted his cheeks. And his  _eyes._  Seijuro had seen many eye colors throughout his life, what with the rainbow that was his family, but his eyes were a sparkling shade of tawny that quickly became the prince's new favorite color. He briefly wondered what other colors lay hidden in his stunning irises, and had half a mind to march over and find out right now, but stood his ground, shaken out of his trance-like state when Atsushi shoved his shoulder next to him, having noticed his zoning out. He tilted his head in the direction of their father, and he caught a glimpse of Ryouta looking about as gleeful as a little kid in a candy store. He bristled when he thought the blonde was looking at the boy Seijuro had just himself been staring at, but relaxed when he realized the stars in the prince's eyes were directed at the internally raging boy next to him. 'I guess I'm not the only one, huh. What weird taste, that guy.' Seijuro found the king making some speech about 'respecting the boundaries given to you' and 'this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, don't be ungrateful', directed to the omegas. He then turned to the princes, and asked them if they agree, and Seijuro nodded, following his brothers' lead. He then dismissed them, offhandedly asking a group of nearby servants to take their stuff and show them their shared room.

 

"I'll allow you to eat in the dining hall with the princes today, just because you're new. It's down the hall on the left, can't miss it. Dinner will be served in forty minutes, don't be late after unpacking," the king called behind the omegas, earning a few hidden eye rolls and a shaky, "Yes, your Highness," in response.

 

Forty-three minutes later, nine boys found themselves seated awkwardly at one end of a very long table. Seijuro recognized that the boy that had been scared earlier was missing. As the maids placed steaming plates of food in front of each boy, the soon-to-be servants introduced themselves. The boy with pale blue eyes, half staring at Shintarou, half glancing at each other omega as he said their name, took the initiative to introduce them, spare the one who hadn't shown up, either out of fear, being unable to find the dining room, or both, Seijuro didn't know.

 

"I'm Takao Kazunari, and that's Himuro Tatsuya." He pointed to the boy with his hair covering his eye, who tilted his head and closed his eyes cutely, smile still present, and he felt Atsushi go rigid next to him. "That's Kasamatsu Yukio." he pointed to the semi-scowling boy, "And that," directing his hand to the object of Seijuro's affections as of nearly an hour, "is Furihata Kouki."

 

"Oi," Daiki spoke roughly, "where's the last guy?"

 

"Oh, that's Sakurai Ryou. He said he'd be a few minutes late when we left the room. I'll go look for him." Himuro stood from the table, excusing himself.

 

They made small talk until Tatsuya returned, this time dragging a lightly trembling brunette behind him.

 

Once he was seated across from Daiki, he softly cleared his throat, it being more of a gesture to calm himself than to attract attention, not that he needed to get Daiki's. "I-I'm sorry for being late, I kind of g-got lost..." he mumbled, averting his eyes, an embarrassed flush marking his smooth cheeks.

 

"It's fine! This place is pretty big, sometimes I still get lost, even now!~" Ryouta bubbled, in a better mood than he had been in since before the other brothers could remember.

 

"Well, in case you all didn't know, I'm Shintarou, that's Daiki, Ryouta, the tall guy is Atsushi, and on the other end is Seijuro," the green-haired boy clarified. "I would also like to apologize for our father's behavior back there; he's quite bad when it comes to people. I can promise that none of us are like that." Ryouta nodded in agreement.

 

They talked about the omega's home lives. Seijuro found out that Sakurai and Himuro were from two of the richer households, while Takao and Kasamatsu admitted to being middle-class. Furihata seemed uncomfortable to admit that he was more lower-class than the others. 'I can't imagine why, it's not like it's a bad thing,' he thought. The him from a twenty-four hours ago wouldn't be caught dead liking someone from the lower-class areas of the town, much less disregarding their social rank completely, but he couldn't find it in himself to care when Kouki flashed him a shy smile in response to something he had said that had escaped his mind for the moment.

 

After dinner, he said his 'goodnight's to his brothers and the omegas, Furihata in particular, before brushing his teeth and washing his face, slipping under the red and black silk sheets of his bed once his lamp was turned off and his winter pajamas were on, like any normal night. Except, unlike any normal night, he couldn't get to sleep. No matter how long he squeezed his eyes shut, no matter how many different positions he tried, no matter how many times he threw the blankets on and off, images of a certain brunette filtered into his mind, blushing faces and shining grins appearing behind his eyes in a manner comparable to a catchy song you didn't want to hear on the radio cycling through your head no matter how hard you willed it out. Finally, the redhead sighed, throwing back the covers and clicking on the lamp with an air of finality. He slipped into his fluffy slippers, padding outside his doorway whilst cringing at the squeaking hinges. He was headed to the kitchen for a glass of milk and maybe a two a.m. snack when his keen ears picked up on something falling and clattering on the ground two doors down from his destination.

 

He froze, hand resting on the open doorway of the kitchen. 'Someone's in here?'

 

Footsteps deliberately silent, he crept into the room, one hand immediately finding the light switch, the other held in the direction of where he knew the knives were, just in case. Once the dim lights of the night lighting system flickered on, he relaxed the hand reaching for the cutlery when he saw Kouki, frozen halfway while reaching to pick up a fallen fork, a small container of cold leftovers in one hand. He grabbed the fork and set it on the island counter, tilting his head in shame.

 

"Well, someone's made themself at home," he commented lightly.

 

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, a-and..." he trailed off, looking helpless.

 

"It's fine. If you're hungry, you're hungry. That's actually why I came down too, should I heat that up for us?" Seijuro spoke coolly, grabbing the container from Furihata's shock-frozen hands, a small part of him excited to share a meal with the one person his head has been revolving around all night.

 

After reheating the food, he set it on the counter, grabbing a fork of his own, as well as two glasses of milk for him and Kouki. He leaned over the counter, purposely close to the brunette, partially to just be close to him, and partially to see what reaction he could get out of him. He smirked at the blush painted across his fair cheekbones, seemingly flustered to eat from the same container as the prince, but not necessarily uncomfortable. They ate in near silence, all of Seijuro's attempts at conversation only earning one-word answers. He frowned, picking up one final piece of meat before he placed his fork down, drinking the last sip of milk. Once he swallowed, making sure he didn't have milk on his upper lip, he spoke, "Well, I'm going to bed." Furihata nodded, leaving Seijuro unsatisfied with his response.

 

In one swift motion, he grasped his small chin, tilting it up to face his own. Kouki let out a choked noise, taking a sharp inhale. As caramel eyes glanced, for a split second, down to his lips that were mere centimeters away, Seijuro noticed that there were other colors flecked in his eyes; spots of gold, red, even green speckled in his kaleidoscopic orbs. The redhead wondered if he always smelled this  _good._

 

As much as he would love to do the opposite, the prince released him, letting his breath ghost the pink lips as he moved away. He grabbed his abandoned glass and fork, and placed them in the sink on his way out. "Just leave your dishes in the sink when you're done." He paused, watching Kouki nod numbly from his position on the counter.

 

"Don't stay up too late," Seijuro spoke quietly from the doorway, casting one final glance and saw the boy blushing like crazy, hesitantly touching his lips with his fingertips. He smiled to himself, taking his time up the grand stairs to his room. 'This will be interesting...'


	2. Truth or Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long!! i've had a pretty hectic swimming schedule, as well as semester finals right around the corner. as finals are next week for me, i may take the same amount of time for the final chapter, but it is just smut, so idk

Furihata Kouki was a downright mess.

 

Ever since the almost-kiss of a few weeks ago, his head had been nothing but piercing ruby eyes and soft cherry hair. What he especially couldn’t get over was the strong scent of alpha that trailed wherever the heir did; triggering something inside him that he had never felt before. Never in his life had he felt a presence so dominating and superior, not even by the roughhousing alpha bullies that lingered in his old neighborhood. He worried, for a moment, that the alpha had triggered his heat, but brushed it off. That would be biologically impossible- an alpha’s rut can be awakened by a potential mate omega’s heat, but that was it, and he was definitely not on his heat, nor a potential mate to the prince.

 

Furihata, being a late bloomer, had yet to have his first heat, but he had been announced as an omega in the years prior, along with the rest of his few friends. Not contradicting his timid personality in the slightest, he had been fairly bad at making friends, the omegas in the castle being his first with the exception of two childhood friends he had, sadly, left behind. His female omega cousin had told him that not only did the first heat last the longest, it was the most painful to endure, and he was savoring his most likely last year of freedom. The other omegas, except for Ryou, often teased him about being the only omega of the five to not have gotten their heat; even the brunette had his about a year ago.

 

Currently he found himself locked in his everyday routine of endlessly cleaning the looming castle. It took all five of them six days, along with the other seven maids, working eight hours a day (a.n. i did not mean for that to be numerically ordered hahah) to polish the many, many dome-shaped rooms, and then the cycle would start again after their Saturday off, which would be tomorrow. He blew a strand of hair from his delicate eyelashes, focusing on not falling from the towering ladder he had his feet firmly planted on. Kouki reached, stretching his arm to its farthest to reach the last speck of dust left on the crystalline chandelier. ‘After this, I’ll be done for today, and I can finally go back to the room!’

 

Although he had at first despised having to sleep in one room with four other people, he found himself looking forward to the fact that there would always be people to come back to after spending an entire day, working, around people he felt so out of place with. Furihata was especially excited for today, as Kazunari had a friend who lived nearby the castle, and he got them lots of junk food to snack on tonight while out getting ingredients for the chefs.

 

Kouki finished, nearly stumbling over himself was he scaled down the ladder. However, once he reached near the bottom, he overestimated the distance between rungs, and slipped, falling from about six feet above the floor. He braced himself for the collision with the tiled floor, holding a hand behind him expectantly. The crash never came, and rather than a stone floor slamming into his back, he felt warm arms wrap around his torso. The tawny eyes, previously squeezed shut, opened wide, staring at the carmine orbs behind him. Furihata immediately felt a blush bloom across his cheeks when Seijuro stared at him, questioning and slightly unimpressed. He had forgotten how scrutinizing the heir’s gaze was, seeing as he had been avoiding him like the plague for the fear he would try something again. Whether he would be scared of the advances themselves or his reactions, he wasn’t sure, however.

 

Kouki pried himself from the prince’s arms, albeit noticeably reluctant on the redhead’s part.

 

“Thank you, I, uh, I lost my balance. I’m sorry!” Immediately thinking to apologize, the maid cringed at how weak his voice sounded.

 

“Just be more careful next time,” Seijuro replied smoothly.

 

Furihata nodded a bit too enthusiastically, and Seijuro had something akin to a small smile on his face when the brunette looked up.

 

Leaving the boy stunned into silence, the royal left the room, but paused at the doorway. ‘This seems to be a reoccurring pattern…’ Kouki thought, feeling flustered when he remembered what happened last time they ran into each other.

 

“You’re done for the day, correct, Furihata?”

 

“A-ah, yes,” he replied, feeling very small when he caught the slight glint in his red iris.

 

He hummed, walking out briskly, leaving Kouki confused as ever. Rather than dwelling on it, he brought the ladder back to the supply closet a hallway down, heading to his room to relax in the last few hours of daylight.

 

He softly opened the wooden door, slipping his shoes off at the entrance.

 

Following the sounds of muffled talking, he moved from the tiny living room-like area into the bedroom, finding the other four already gathered on the floor in the center. They had made it a point to do something in their room together every Friday, from boards games to quizzes to TV. Today he found them surrounded by pillows from their respective beds, propping them up, with a sizable pile of snacks in the center.

 

Noticing the bags in everyone’s lap and the half-eaten pizza in the center, he laughed. “Glad to see you guys haven’t started without me.”

 

“But of course,” Takao winked. “Grab your pillows! We’re about ready to start a game!”

 

Once he had a massive cushion against his back, Furihata noticed that there were no devices nor cards in sight, and sent a questioning glance to Kazunari, who shot him down immediately, turning to Himuro with a quirk of his lips.

 

“Suya-chan, truth or dare?”

 

At that, Kouki understood, and shared a concerned glance with Ryou and Yukio.

 

Tatsuya seemed to consider the question, responding with an equally playful tone, “Dare.”

 

“I dare you to…” He tapped his chin in mock consideration. “Eat this.” Dipping one of his sour gummy worms into his can of soda, Takao threw the worm at Himuro, who moved his leg just in time, the candy splattering onto the floor. He picked it up with ease, plopping it into his mouth.

 

“We know how truth or dare works,” Kasamatsu deadpanned.

 

“Great! Well then, let’s get started. Suya-chan, you start.”

 

Himuro’s stormy eyes scanned over them, settling on Yukio, much to Kouki’s relief.

 

“Yukio! Truth or dare?”

 

The boy’s aqua eyes glanced to the side, rightfully not trusting the ravenette at the moment. “Truth.”

 

“How is Ryouta?”

 

“What do you- he’s not sick, if that’s what you mean,” Kasamatsu trailed off looking uncomfortable.

 

“No, how _is_ Ryouta?” Tatsuya pressed.

 

Yukio seemed to understand. “Wha-! Why would you-!” He clapped a hand over his own mouth, his face a lovely shade of red. Himuro laughed. “Your turn.”

 

Once he stopped choking on the popcorn kernel that probably got lodged into his throat, Kasamatsu spoke, still glaring slightly at the ravenettes on his other side. “Kouki, truth or dare.”

 

“Truth,” Now slightly nervous after seeing what happened to Yukio, he took the safer route, knowing there weren’t many things to use against him.

 

“You guys are no fun,” Kazunari pouted.

 

Ignoring him, Kasamatsu came up with his question. Grinning devilishly, he stared at the now very scared brunette like an animal would its prey. “What is Seijuro to you?”

 

Kouki flinched. “N-nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Inwardly cursing his voice for choosing now, of all times, to waver, he almost didn’t notice the flush creeping up his face until Takao shrieked, pointing at his face urgently. “Then what’s that!”

 

‘Of all times for my face to act up!’ Sakurai poked his cheek, jokingly shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything with him! Besides, you’re one to talk- we all know why you keep ‘cleaning’,” he made air quotations, “the hallway where Daiki’s room happens to be!”

 

Ryou took in a sharp inhale of breath, sputtering unintelligibly.

 

Sakurai looked ready to either scream or cry, when Yukio slapped both of their heads. “Calm down! This was a bad idea in the first place, we’re done playing!”

 

Kazunari whined, earning a profound glare from the blackette. “Fine, Yukio-chan. Let’s just talk, then.”

 

“If you suggest we talk about the princes, I’m slapping you, too. We sound like a bunch of girls,” he threatened.

 

After a solid five hours of absolute nonsense, the omegas picked up their trash, yawning blearily as they crawled into bed. Soon enough, Furihata heard the soft snores of his four friends asleep in their beds, but he lay awake, thinking about Kasamatsu’s question.

 

“What is Seijuro… to me?” he whispered into the suffocating darkness. He knew it was some silly question from a game meant to embarrass you, but he still couldn’t bring himself to answer it. Of course, they were nothing more than servant and master, and nothing had actually happened between them, but the more he thought about it, the more he found himself wishing that something had.

 

He rolled over to his side. ‘Guess tonight’s going to be another sleepless one,’ he sighed. Kouki wondered if he would be allowed to go onto the balcony for some fresh air to clear his head, before he realized that they had a key for every door in the castle in the supply closet across the hall. Of course, they were for cleaning purposes, but the king doesn’t need to know what he can’t see, right?

 

He crept out of bed, sliding open the door and padding across the hall. It was a bit hard finding the right key on the keyring, what with his practically being blind in the dark, but he traced the labels carved into the keys, detaching the one for the small balcony when he found it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he clicked the translucent balcony door shut behind him, but tensed right after, jumping about a foot into the air when he turned and saw someone else leaning on the railing.

 

Furihata nearly choked when he saw the looming, purple-haired prince looking out at the horizon, hunched over the railing in an attempt of resting his head on his abnormally long arm.

 

Atsushi glanced behind him. “Eh? You’re not Muro-chin.” Sulking, the prince pulled a pocky stick from the box in his pocket, munching on the chocolate-coated stick like a child.

 

“M-Muro-chin?” He realized a few moments later that ‘Muro-chin’ must be Himuro.

 

“Yes. He said he would meet me here,” the giant pouted, tilting his head back to the trees below them.

 

“He may h-have forgotten, the five of us were doing stuff earlier.” Furihata realized that may have been the wrong thing to say, as alphas were instinctually possessive, even of other omegas. Atsushi’s head snapped back to look at him, eyes narrowing.

 

The brunette’s eyes widened. “I’ll go get him, right now!”

 

Scurrying down the hallway as quietly as he could, Furihata tried to calm his heartbeat. Alphas were really scary, especially ones as well-known as the Kisekis.

 

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice Tatsuya heading his way. “Atsushi-san’s looking for you,” he whispered once he was close enough to the raven-haired boy.

 

“That’s where I’m headed. He’s going to be mad that I’m late; I’m lucky I woke up when you left.”

 

Kouki’s cheeks burned. “Sorry I was loud; I didn’t mean to wake anyone up.”

 

“Nah, I’m just a light sleeper. See you later!” he called, waving a hand to the other omega as he strolled down the hallway.

 

Rather than wondering what was going on between them, he continued on his way back to his room. Furihata had had more than enough excitement for one night, and wanted nothing more than to sleep the day away. When the maid was just a hallway down from his room, he was more than surprised to feel a hand grab his wrist, tugging him into an empty guest room. ‘I just can’t catch a break tonight, can I?’ His breathing constricted when he saw the shock of red hair that could only belong to one person.

 

While considering whether anyone in this castle actually sleeps at night, he wriggled his wrist in the iron grip it was in, an involuntary shudder running through him when he realized how strong Seijuro could be.

 

Said redhead towered over him, despite being no more than six centimeters taller. His eyes were dark, and Furihata was bracing himself for the beating of his life, though he still didn’t know what he did wrong, when there were suddenly lips against his, pressing and forceful. Shocked at first, Kouki actually found himself not only thinking it wasn’t repulsive, but actually enjoying it. His lips were soft, but not smooth, and fit just over the omega’s perfectly. The lips moved, shoving his mouth open to make way for his warm tongue. Once Seijuro realized Kouki was kissing back, one of his hands left his wrist, snaking possessively around his waist to pull his body flush to his. Furihata wasn’t quite sure what to do with his free hand, but the prince made a low sound in his throat when he touched his hair, so he wound his slim digits into the short strands that were just as soft as Furihata had pictured.

 

Seijuro roughly pulled Furihata’s tongue into his slick mouth, sucking on the muscle before his own tongue darted over it, as if checking he was okay. Kouki whimpered slightly when it was released, the lips detaching from his.

 

“Why were you with Atsushi?” Came the breathy whisper across his lips, an undertone of something slightly dark lacing his voice.

 

When his voice finally returned to him, Kouki mustered a reply, voice wavering when he first opened his mouth. “I-I ran into him on the balcony, and he was asking for Himuro.”

 

“Hm.” Seijuro wasted no time, his head ducking into Furihata’s neck. Taking a deep inhale, Kouki suddenly found the scent of alpha around him intoxicating, his knees buckling as Seijuro harshly sucked on the skin just below his scent gland, the shorter shivering when the prince’s huffs of breath tickled the sensitive skin. Having been so close to marking the omega, both Seijuro and Kouki knew that the scent of the heir would linger on him for a few weeks, at least, the former taking pride in that fact.

 

Seijuro left moments later, telling a more-than-distracted Furihata to go to bed as well. Once his senses recovered, he stumbled into bed, much more confused than when he had left less than an hour ago.


	3. Mating Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmm... hi?
> 
> haha i don't even have an excuse. i'm so so s o SO sorry this took so long, but i really have the worst writer's block when i try to write smut, and idek why. that's probably why i always chicken out when i try it write it, and i'm sorry for any awkward terms i used. like i said, i don't understand it bc i'm perfectly comfortable reading explicit things, but writing them... anyways,, i'm super sorry this took so long, and for the length, and thank you to anyone who stuck around for like the six weeks i didn't update -_- <3
> 
> ps i tried my best to make akashi super obsessive of furihata, and i hope i did it justice

(WARNING: OOC!!)

 

Furihata woke in a daze, his head spinning with ungodly shivers wracking through his body. His vision blurred sporadically, and it took him a few seconds and more than a few blinks to register that no one else was in the room, all the other beds neatly made, spare for the one that, he reminded himself, belonged to Takao. Just as the brunette tried to sit up, he felt something drip between his legs, sliding down his now very sensitive inner thigh. ‘No… surely not now, of all times?’

 

Kouki immediately threw himself in the direction of the bedside table drawer that held the heat suppressants he had thought he wouldn’t need for a while, but froze, trembling slightly, when he found that every movement he made went directly to his lower stomach, swirling around faster than his brain was producing thought. Furihata cautiously turned from his stomach, small gasps escaping him at the friction from his boxers. Having given up on the suppressants, he finished turning over in one erratic movement, a full-on moan escaping him as he relaxed on his back, whatever small part of his brain that had even an ounce of common sense left turned off as more slick escaped him, soaking his pajama pants and probably the bed sheets, too.

 

He snapped, for a moment, from his delirium when the bedroom door was slammed open, being shut and locked less than a second after with just as much force. Before he could process what the noise was, there was a blur of red before his eyes, and he was pinned to the bed, one candy apple and one molten gold eye staring at him. Then there were lips against his, pressing hard enough to bruise, and a hand sliding up his shirt. Kouki melted, completely giving into the person he could now very clearly smell was an alpha. The fingers under his shirt skimmed over his stuttering ribcage, and his heightened senses went off, the air around them becoming thicker with the scent of an omega on heat. The alpha growled, hands gripping Furihata’s hips against his own as the kiss grew wilder, a skilled mouth nipping and sucking at Kouki’s.

 

The alpha reluctantly removed his lips from the brunette’s, staring down at the puffy-lipped Kouki beneath him, shirt pushed up his pale chest, hips with white streaks and soon-to-be bruises from his hands gripping them. Furihata suddenly realized who was above him, cheeks going multiple shades darker. “W- S-Sei- what are you...?” Seijuro’s mouth set, nosing down the exposed column of his neck. “How could you expect me to not do anything when you’re moaning loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear?” His teeth bit harshly into Furihata’s exposed collarbones. “Kouki, you’re mine.” Furihata shivered at the tone in his voice, his face flushed from both the heat and Seijuro’s words.

 

Kouki whined, tugging his shirt higher over his head due to the rapidly rising temperatures in the room, and Seijuro shuddered when those tawny eyes that had been haunting him every night before he went to sleep stared at him, pleading. “Please,” he said quietly.

 

Seijuro, fighting to keep his self-control intact, swallowed hard. “Please what?” He tested, lips ghosting over the brunette’s ear.

 

Shivering, Furihata shakily wrapped his arms around Seijuro in an attempt to bring him closer. “Please, fuck me.”

 

And Seijuro did.

 

Effortlessly sliding the fluffy pajama pants, along with his black boxers, from the omega’s smooth legs, the alpha immediately had a finger inside the smaller, aided by the slick drippling down his ass. Kouki cried out, eyes tearing up not from any sort of pain, but the overwhelming pleasure that was the only thing his heat allowed him to feel. With his free hand gripping the underside of one of Furihata’s quivering knees, Seijuro once again surrounded the boy with a crushing kiss, greedily swallowing all the squeaks and pants the previously timid Kouki let out.

 

Seijuro pulled away, a feral grin stretching across his face as his free hand made work of the white, button-up shirt he was wearing. Furihata twined his hands into the silky, vibrant red hair of the alpha, tugging him back down so their mouths were once more connected, drool seeping past the cracks in their mouths, and Seijuro smirked, letting his eager actions slide as this was his first heat.

 

Without warning, he pulled his finger out, only to add another all at once before the whine had even fully left Kouki’s throat. Furihata let out a strangled sound, panting against Seijuro’s smirking lips. A third finger was inserted, and Kouki was deemed ready. Seijuro, swiftly taking off his own pants, shuddered when he was fully inside Furihata’s heat. Furihata arched off the bed, eyes dazed, a flush spread across his neck, making the marks and bruises left on them almost blend in. Seijuro never let his eyes leave Kouki as he started moving, hard pressed to just kiss him and forget about anything else.

 

Some part of his intoxicated mind, drunk off of the sight of the omega before him, provided an image of Furihata doing this with someone else, and he growled, further abrading the flat expanse of his neck, hands sliding down his thighs to tightly grip his knees. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine! You show this side of you only to me! MINE!” Voice rising with every syllable, Seijuro delivered a particularly deep bite to the nape of Furihata’s neck, before finalizing it with a bite directly on his scent gland, mating the two.

 

Letting out one final whimper, Kouki came so hard he saw stars, hardly noticing when Seijuro did too, the only thing in his vision before passing out being a smug-looking redhead with a cardinal red and a gleaming amber eye, pale, perfect arms caging him within them. He finally passed out, sinking lower into the cool, mussed sheets wrapped around the cushiony mattress of the bed.

 

Seijuro nearly cooed at the sight of Furihata; somehow looking sweet and innocent even with red and purple marks scattered across his neck, swollen lips, cum splattered across his chest and lower abdomen, and bedhead that certainly wasn’t fixed by their actions from just moments ago. ‘Like a sleeping angel,’ he thought, his eyes almost in hearts as he lovingly pets the soft hazelnut locks.

 

He fell down next to Kouki, hooking an arm possessively around his ribcage to pull him closer, nuzzling his nose into his hair. He caught a glimpse of the omega’s mottled neck once more, and a twisted feeling of satisfaction rose within him, some primitive part of him proud to be the one to leave their mark on such beautiful, precious skin. Seijuro sighed, pressing one last kiss to the omega’s neck, smirking slightly when Kouki shivered in his sleep. Nestling his love closer, he allowed himself to drift to sleep as well, but not before uttering two words to reassure his psyche: “My omega.”


	4. Extra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i promise this is it guys. as always, im superrrrr sorry this took as long as it did, i tend to overthink things sometimes... anddd im also sorry for the continuing trend of possessive alphas, but possessive/jealous lovers are highkey my guilty pleasure, so i tend to incorporate it like, in everything i write.
> 
> p.s. i actually found out before writing this that i ship aokise a lot,, and not aomine and sakurai, so im sorry if you can see how awkward it was for me to write that part. i still love kikasa, thankfully
> 
> enjoy!~ (hopefully :''')

As alphas of a multitude of personalities, the five current Kiseki princes had many varying ways of dealing with their possessive instincts passed down to them among many other tamed animalistic natures from their father, the long-time ruler of the kingdom of Kiseki.

The eldest, Kiseki Ryouta, beloved by all except his lover, Kasamatsu Yukio (or so he says), uses his blessed good looks to charm over anyone he deems a threat to his love for the boy, not that he’s ever asked Yukio how he feels about it.

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“Yukiocchi~!” The blonde called his name repeatedly as he wanders up and down the many twisting corridors that made up the maze of his home. As he peered into what felt like the thousandth door, Ryouta sighed, wondering if the omega was ignoring him again. He knew for a fact he was no longer working: he had seen the other four omegas in their room just minutes ago when he had checked it for his lover.

Ryouta stopped when he heard Kasamatsu’s voice what sounded like mere steps away from where he stood. “Yukiocchi?” he whispered softly as he grew closer to the sound of Kasamatsu’s laugh. Any other time, he would have loved to hear it, but not now; not at the hands of the disgustingly cute girl he was currently happily conversing with, unbeknownst of the fuming alpha behind him. No, he only noticed the female alpha in front of him.

“So, Kasa-chan, what’s your favorite part about the castle so far?” She looked coyly up at him through her long eyelashes, glossy pink lips nearly in a pout in an attempt to look more feminine, her nimble fingers twining around the bows on her mandatory maid’s uniform. Not that oblivious Kasamatsu noticed.

He pondered, tapping his chin. Ryouta, having been about to storm over to the duo, froze in his steps, some part of him hoping Yukio would say him.

As if he thought the same thing Ryouta did, a slight hue of pink dusted the boy’s cheeks as he responded, as a thoughtless answer: “P-Probably the cleaning! I m-mean, isn’t it super fun to… clean…” Cringing at his answer, Yukio was shocked to see the maid giggling as though she hadn’t heard what he said. “You’re so silly, Kasa-chan~! It’s what I-“

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, however, because there was suddenly a very prominent aura surrounding the room, and Kasamatsu whipped his head around to see a seething Ryouta, though it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he was momentarily the same pretty boy as always. “Oh, hello Yukiocchi! Miko-chan!” Grinning, he feigned surprise as though he hadn’t looked through the entire castle for the boy, thanking the brief moment of logical thinking he’d had to remember her name before his blackout of internal rage.

“Oh, hello there Ryouta-sama,” she said out of obligation, more than slightly peeved he had interrupted her almost-confession. Kasamatsu, on the other hand, was still far too embarrassed over his thoughts about said alpha in response to the maid’s question from moments earlier to conjure up an intelligible thing to say.

But that wasn’t what Ryouta was here for, as much as he would love to look longer at the flushed face of a flustered Yukio. Instead, he waltzed over to the maid, propping his elbow on the wall diagonal from her head; not too close for comfort, but close enough to establish a ‘this is more than professional’ vibe.

She, in response, blushed slightly, staring warily at the prince, who paid this no heed, leaning down slightly to look at her face better. “What were you and Yukiocchi doing all the way out here, Miko-chan?” Saying her name in a lower tone of voice had the desired effect, and the red spreading across her face grew wider. “N-Nothing! Absolutely nothing,” she squeaked.

He hummed, moving away slightly, turning to face Kasamatsu better. “Was it really nothing, Yukiocchi?” Staring at the blonde in a constant state of disbelief, the blackette only blinked in response. When the mention of Kasamatsu’s name did nothing to soften the stars in her eyes, aimed at Ryouta now, he decided his work was done, and turned around to grab Yukio’s wrist firmly. “Well, sorry to leave so suddenly, but Yukiocchi and I have some business to attend to. Goodbye, Miko-chan~.” And they took their business all the way back to Ryouta’s room, where the blonde went on to show Kasamatsu just which alpha he belonged to.

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The next on the list of our favorite boys is Kiseki Shintarou. Unlike his older brother, he does not have the confidence to pull such a stunt, so his method is to simply glare at the offending person until they retreated from what he claimed as his.

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Shintarou was not happy.

He had been on his way back to his room from the garden when he had found something unpleasant just outside the castle gate.

Takao chatting animatedly with another man.

But it’s not as though he can just walk up to them. After all, he couldn’t have Kazunari knowing how much he was bothered by this. But, as he stared at their far-too-close-for-his-liking figures outlined by the bright midday sun, rage growing hotter and more uncomfortably itchy inside him, he found that maybe that was better than the alternative- someone trying to take Takao from him.

And so he sat there, hidden behind the massive stone archway that supported the brass gates in front of the castle, crouched atop the perfectly cobbled walkway leading to his home, prepared to march right up to them if anything that seemed suspicious happened.

Though he was hoping upon hope that Cancer’s bad luck today would go smoother than usual, something did happen.

The man touched Kazunari’s shoulder.

And not just an accidental brush, either.

His hand reached out and purposefully grabbed his shoulder, albeit only for a second.

Shintarou had had enough. He flounced up, storming over to the pair with a deadly aura surrounding him. He stopped just before he reached them, every instinct inside of him screaming to just kill the man right there, but he didn’t. That would clearly display how upset he was, and he was not one to openly show emotions, at least not on purpose. 

Struggling to maintain a composed face, the greenhead stiffly stood in place. “Hello, Takao. Who is your friend-nanodayo?” He practically spat the word ‘friend’, which did not escape Takao’s keen eyes. He snickered, immediately knowing what the problem was.

“Ah, Shin-chan! This is Michio-chan, a friend of mine from before I left for the castle.”

The man offered his hand, smirking slightly. “Komatsu Michio, pleasure to meet you.” Shintarou reluctantly shook his hand, scowl deepening when he realized they were on a first-name basis, which wouldn’t have been such a problem, had the man before him not been an alpha, as made apparent by his natural smell. He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but was shushed by Komatsu. “Do you really think I don’t know who you are? I live right by the castle.” He pointed to a house down the street. Shintarou didn’t respond.

“Okay! Now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we stay and chat for a while? Is that okay with you, Shin-chan?” Takao lilted, knowing fully well how irritable the alpha was at the moment.

Partly not wanting Kazunari to be suspicious (even though he already was), partly not wanting to displease his omega, but mostly not wanting to leave the two together alone, Shintarou reluctantly agreed.

They talked for what felt like hours.

Or, to be precise, Kazunari and Michio talked for what felt like hours, Shintarou ‘subtly’ glaring at Komatsu the entire time. Though he appeared confident in the beginning, Michio was clearly beginning to grow uneasy with the very well-known alpha, both close enough and strong enough to literally kill him here and now, so shamelessly angry at him. However, his main concern was that he had no clue what could have made Shintarou so mad at him.

When Takao and Komatsu had evidently had enough talking for the day, they said their goodbyes, Shintarou just relieved to finally have Kazunari to himself. However, that brief moment of relaxation turned to an unadulterated fury that made his near-meltdown from before seem like skipping through a field of bright splashes of flowers and sparkling sunshine. A rage so seething he saw black spots buzzing around his line of vision, now zeroed in on one thing: Michio hugging Kazunari.

HIS Kazunari.

‘Absolutely not... I won’t allow it!’ he thought, the phrase vaguely cycling around his now-fuzzy mind.

Letting out a growl that sounded more like a savage animal than anything else, he gripped the back of Takao’s shirt, thankfully not ripping the fabric, not registering Komatsu gaping at him, nor Kazunari’s slight shiver from under the thin fabric of his uniform. He dragged the boy that had practically become a dead weight all the way inside the castle, and to his room, where he proceeded to actually tear Takao’s clothes from his body.

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Kiseki Daiki is a blunt person- that much has always been true. So naturally, this to-the-point nature of his applies to scenarios where, for instance, someone is trying to take something he loves, whether it be something as insignificant as his magazines, or someone with more effect on his composition, such as his lover.

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Daiki strolled aimlessly through the halls, on his way back from a ‘family meeting’ called by his father that, once again, was about absolutely nothing of importance, simply the king’s way of complaining about things without the responsibility to do anything about them. Thus, he had left early as he always ended up doing. That was normal.

What wasn’t normal was seeing someone getting hit on in the halls. Though he could only see the face of the person he assumed was an alpha, propped up against the wall by their upper arm, towering over the shorter of the two, he could tell the smaller was very terrified, as given away by his barely visible shaking, a behavior that made the bluenette smile, reminding him of his lover.

Daiki could see that the alpha was not bad on the eyes, and wondered why he would work as a cleaner if he probably had countless girls throwing themselves at his feet. ‘I would not feel safe if that omega was mine,’ he admitted to himself. He shook it off, continuing his endless walk on the velvet carpeted floors, until one of them spoke.

“Come on Ryou; what do you say?” he purred.

Daiki went stiff. How he didn’t notice the familiar caramel hair or the jittery composition, he didn’t know. ‘Probably because Ryou was in his shadow the entire time!’ he thought angrily.

He retraced his steps, stopping at the corner just before the hallway they were in, so he could see just how far this idiot would dare to go with flirting with a very clearly taken omega. Either this guy’s sense of smell was whacked up, or he was choosing to ignore the purposefully heavy scent of Daiki on Sakurai, there for the purpose of warding off pests very much like this bastard.

“A-As I have said in the past, Oshiro-kun, I will n-not go out with y-you, especially now that I’m dating someone!” Trying his best to be forceful, Ryou glared weakly at the blonde male.

“Ooh! So cold, Ryou. And after I went through the trouble of leaving home to be with you here. It wasn’t easy to convince that other maid to quit, you know? Or make my mother believe this is what I want to do in life. Show some appreciation for all I do to be with you!” He pouted in a very unfitting way to the animalistic look in his eyes, leaning much closer to Sakurai.

Thankfully the brunette needed not worry about the sleaze in front of him, for Daiki was now in their line of view, staring blankly at them, long since beyond the point of possessive anger. Ryou squeaked, red blooming across his smooth cheeks. “D-Daiki-kun!”

He stormed over in a flash, and before the other two could say anything else, Daiki had his lips locked with Sakurai’s. The boy flinched, his face growing multiple shades darker, but he didn’t pull away, parting his lips for Daiki’s eager tongue as his hands softly rested on the alpha’s chest. The prince pulled away momentarily, his expression darkened with lust, but stayed right in front of Ryou, shielding him from the eyes of the so-called ‘Oshiro’.

“You bastard! Was that your idea of making a point?!” the blonde yelled. “Just because you’re royalty doesn’t mean you can go around doing whatever!”

“Technically, this is my castle, so I can do whatever I feel like doing. The real question is: who the hell are you?”

“Oshiro Takeo, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said mockingly.

“Well Takeo, I would just like to know what you think you’re doing to someone that has blatantly told you they’re not interested.” Oshiro’s lazy smirk faltered at being called by his first name.

“Like it’s your business! I’ve known Ryou since the beginning of junior high!” Daiki’s fists clenched even tighter at his sides, giving the blonde a harshly terrifying ‘try me’ look.

“Hah?! Ryou and I are lovers!” Sakurai glimmered in a small moment of happiness, as they hadn’t confirmed their status until that moment.

Takeo looked at him in disgust. “You? Tch, Ryou can do so much better.”

“Yeah, like you? And I suppose that’s why he’s not with you, but me right now?” Daiki leered, knowing he had won.

“Look; I’m a greedy guy, so I don’t care that you’ve been together for what, a week? You better watch your back, because Ryou will be mine, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Daiki snarled, lunging towards Oshiro, only to find his arm caught on something.

Sakurai, tugging him away from the other alpha, before jumping up, releasing him. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! B-But, please don’t attack him! I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything.” He looked down shyly, and the prince’s eyes softened ever-so-slightly.

Turning once more to Takeo, he growled threateningly. “Listen here: if Ryou wanted to be with you, he would have done it a long time ago. As if I’d let the likes of you, or anyone else for that matter, take him away from me. Ryou is mine, and it’s going to stay that way as long as I have a say in things.”

And on that note, the pair walked out, or, more accurately, Daiki pulled Ryou back to his room, having found something much more urgent to attend to than a family meeting.

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Kiseki Atsushi, the childish giant, gives off the feel of a petulant child, that which he is, most of the time. Once he’d decided he wanted something, he would whine and pester until he got it, and would refuse to let someone else have it unless he found he didn’t want whatever it was, which wasn’t usually the case. He was his own brand of possessive that was hard to find: while many alphas wanted to monopolize their omega, in this case, for some secret and darker reason, Atsushi, when something caught his eye, quite literally just wanted it to have and he wanted it now and if anyone tried to stop him he wouldn’t hesitate to knock them out of his way. This time, what had caught his eye was Himuro Tatsuya, and his selfishness was only heightened by the added factor of the boy’s popularity with both female and male audiences.

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“Why is Muro-chin always hiding from me?” The purple-headed giant whined, having walked a whole two hallways in search of his sneaky lover. Himuro was not, in fact, hiding from Atsushi, but was simply doing something in a place the prince was too far from for his liking, and was torn between wanting to be with Tatsuya and making sure there was no one he needed to crush for bothering the ravenette in the slightest and his self-deemed rule of what amount of effort he would put in for other people, which was usually little-to-none.

Seeing as he had already exceeded his limit in that sense, he continued, dragging his feet as though the smooth red carpets were molasses and he was stuck within it. He popped another pocky stick into his mouth from the box in his pocket, sucking the coat of his second favorite flavor off of it: blueberry. Preferring the classics for this style of sweet, he always finished the chocolate boxes first when a new shipment arrived, as much as he may regret in later on.

Although he is so paralyzing in the very implied strength in his movements, and he could, physically, make just about anyone do what he wanted, Atsushi hated any sort of confrontation. Whoever would be involved in said confrontation had absolutely no meaning to him, and why he would willingly go into an area packed with more than two people was lost on him. He preferred to be by himself.

Now, this would all be true, if you didn’t take Himuro into account.

Though he occasionally degraded himself for it, the alpha had found that being by his lonesome had lost any previous depth it may have had; now that he’d almost always have Tatsuya right beside him. He’d once let those words slip from his mouth, and he swore the only time Himuro had ever been that red was the first time Atsushi kissed him.

Brought back into reality, the mauve-haired teen was staring blankly at the intricate gold frame-edged paintings lining the walls, his disinterested eyes darting across them through the thick lashes fringing the dabbles of magenta hidden inside his amethyst irises, when there was suddenly an ear shattering screeching noise from nearby. Atsushi winced, scowling, trying to pinpoint where the noise could have come from so he could tell it to shut up.

Just as he had been about to call out to find out who or what had disturbed his already quite unpleasant evening, the noise returned, though this time at least twice as strong as before. He swiveled around, heading in the direction of the noise to give it a piece of his mind.

Just when he began to think he was going on a wild goose chase, he heard it again, just below him. He looked down, expecting to find a possessed book or something, but was instead met with three shrieking toddlers, scampering around without a care in the world as they giggled and pulled each other’s hair. He glowered down at them, but the children seemed unaffected, one of them even having the audacity to wrap its chubby arms around his leg. ‘I hate kids…’ he thought, making a disgusted face at the rosy-cheeked ball of energy now attached to him as stubbornly as a piece of gum in his hair (it has happened before).

He kicked his leg slightly, enough to scare the baby off his leg, but not enough to hurt her, as even an angry Atsushi had some common decency. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work, and the toddler only latched on tighter, while her younger brother reached up into his pocket and pulled out at least half of the remaining pocky sticks from his box. He crammed them all into his mouth at once, further enraging the purple-head. He glared once more at them, and shook his leg around more, but was this time stopped by none other than the reason he was in this area of the castle in the first place.

“Where did they- Atsushi!” Tatsuya’s voice floated down from the other end of the hall. “I see you found the toddlers!”

Atsushi’s expression soured when he realized Himuro had been not only looking for the little demons, but had a name for them, too. A bit of a stretch, he knew, but he had always been a petty person.

“Why were you kicking her off your leg?” he asked when he made his way over, gently picking up the child from her iron grip on his calf, to place her on his hip with an unexpectedly domestic casualty.

Atsushi sulked, crossing his arms in defiance. “It wouldn’t get off.” Himuro smiled fondly, reaching up on his tiptoes to ruffle the prince’s silky hair.

However, just when Atsushi finally had Tatsuya’s attention all to himself, the toddler at his side made a high-pitched squawking sound, and as if on cue, the other two flocked around Tatsuya, tugging on his pants and what they could reach of his shirt. “I guess you guys better get going,” he said in a babyish voice.

The giant teen scowled once more at having Himuro’s attention stolen from him, and by such brats, of all people! There was so way he’d just sit around and watch this happen! “Muro-chin,” he started with an imperative tone to his voice, and waited until Tatsuya had turned towards him inquisitively. His mind went blank. “Uhh, how did those babies get here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I just saw them one minute and then they were gone, and that’s when I found them with you.”

They started walking towards the direction of the entrance hall to bring the children out, and when they reached the edge of the garden, a girl came hurtling straight at them.

The tots leapt at her, hugging her as she bowed at a straight ninety degrees. “I’m so sorry! My little siblings have a tendency to wander, but I never would have guessed they’d do this! I’m so so sorry!” She gasped, catching her breath partially from the run and partially from saying her short rant in one breath.

Tatsuya reached out to softly touch her shoulder, and Atsushi clenched his jaw, the girl evidently noticing his eye blades aimed at her when she stood up and instantly froze, gulping with wide eyes.

“It’s not your fault, I have younger siblings too; I know how they are. Plus, they only ran into Atsushi and me, and they didn’t break anything.” Himuro spoke softly, and she smiled sunnily at him.

The aura around the two became very serene, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Atsushi found himself repulsed by something so sweet.

So, not missing a beat, he wrapped a strong arm over the front of the boy’s shoulders, hoisting him effortlessly into his grasp. Atsushi carried him princess-style all the way into the castle, beyond the indignant sputters of the pauper girl and the prying eyes of people attracted by the commotion from their little brick houses, into a room where he could be alone and have ALL of Tatsuya’s devotion to himself.

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And last but certainly not least, Kiseki Seijuro, the youngest of this generation, has the capability to be terrifying far beyond his age and even height, daresay. Despite how agreeable he may seem, his chillingly calm disposition and double-meanings to everything he says reveal more than enough reason as to how he is so respected and why his words have become absolute in more than one way. His ridiculously arrogant sayings that from anyone else would be laughable are more than true for him: he has never lost, and he has never been wrong. If something is his, everyone else had better do more than their best to not do anything to it, or them, in this case. After all, there’s no saying what he would do to someone that got in his way. To him, the only option is to break them so they don’t get the idea they can stand above and look down on him.

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Furihata Kouki was a good person. He did all his chores properly, he never talked bad about people, he followed all the instructions given to him, he kept all the secrets he was told by his friends; anything he was asked to do by someone trustworthy, he did without fail. So how things had ended up like this, he didn’t know.

It all started when it was his turn to get food from the market for the cooks. He had all the money he would need to buy it, he had a list in order of the stands he would pass, and he had a reusable bag, everything stored inside. He had been walking happily down the street to get home, humming lightly as he went. The cause of his giddiness was because he and Seijuro were meeting just when he got back, and there was only ten minutes until the time Seijuro had given him, allowing for just enough time to get home and help store the food in the cupboards. Kouki could see the castle’s enormous gates just in the near distance, when he was tugged harshly into an alleyway by a large, rough hand gripping his lower arm.

The bag slipped from his arm and spilled onto the ground. He squeaked when he saw what the hand still wrapped around his wrist lead to: a tall, beefy man who looked scarily close to being Atsushi’s height. The man released his wrist only to grab both in his other hand effortlessly, pinning them above his head. Kouki kicked his legs, and while he, at first, winced, he covered Kouki’s toes with his own feet. When Furihata had scowled and been about to yell at the guy, despite the fact that he was clearly a strong alpha, though his aura wasn’t nearly that of Seijuro’s, the man’s hand had come to grip over his mouth, nearly blocking his nose as well.

“Don’t yell! You wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re here, would you?” He smirked, bringing his face to hover just in front of Kouki’s. “I’ve never seen an omega as cute as you…” He nuzzled his nose into Furihata’s neck, making the brunette shudder in disgust. “You smell so good...” Kouki wondered if this guy was seriously an idiot, because it was more than obvious he had an alpha; he could smell it on himself.

“Ah, but you have an alpha,” his brows furrowed, then relaxed moments later. “Whatever. I doubt they’re as strong as I am. And either way, you’re mine now. I’m going to steal you away,” he growled sinisterly. Furihata grimaced, trying to get out of the man’s grip, but it was futile. Clearly, whatever he lacked in brains he had in muscle, and as the reality of the situation sunk onto Kouki, a cold feeling entering his fingertips that was partially the sheer terror and partially the tightness of his makeshift handcuffs cutting off his circulation, he leaned down, removing his hand just as their lips were about to touch.

Furihata closed his eyes, leaning his head as far into the wall as he could, when suddenly the pressure was gone, and the sickeningly hot breath ghosting his lips disappeared. He blinked, opening his eyes in confusion and relief, and only saw the man sprawled on the ground many feet away from him, bloody skid marks from the rough stone floor littering his exposed arms and face. Kouki’s knees wobbled, and he fell down, catching his breath.

“You doubt they’re as strong as you are, huh?” A chilling voice emitted from the entrance of the alley.

Furihata’s head whipped towards the eerily composed voice to his left, and saw Seijuro seething in rage, eyes boring blankly into the once-cocky man’s crumpled silhouette atop the concrete ground. He walked over, each step resonating, and chuckled slightly at the sight of the other alpha, before taking out a pair of scissors that glinted in the sunlight.

“You won’t be stealing anything from me,” he murmured as he raised the hand holding the scissors precariously, and threw them with paralyzing accuracy, slicing the man’s cheekbone, ever-so-slightly grazing his nose, and successfully creating a sharp gash across his face, just barely not enough to bleed out and die.

The man being long since knocked out cold, Seijuro stilled, and addressed Kouki with his back facing the brunette. “Kouki, please follow directly behind me to the castle.” Furihata scrambled to sit up, and stood beside Seijuro when he started walking at a fast pace back to the castle. While holding one of Kouki’s wrists in a death grip, he somehow always managed to stay a good distance away from the omega, making him wonder if Seijuro was mad at him for being careless.

Seijuro led Furihata into the castle, and up to the prince’s room, where he spun around, and moved to pin the brunette to the wall beside the door. Kouki went wide-eyed at the look in his eyes that wasn’t anything but feral. The redhead leaned down, his lips brushing against his temple. Kouki shivered as the prince spoke, whispering whilst pressing kisses to the shell of his ear. “Do you know him, Kouki?”

“N-No; I’ve never seen him before-hah…”

“Are you sure? He seemed pretty close to you,” Seijuro scoffed, greedily wrapping an arm around Furihata’s waist, the other tilting his jaw up.

Leaving no time for a response, he pulled Kouki into a bruising kiss, nipping and sucking his omega’s lips. Kouki instantly responded, submissively opening his mouth to give the alpha access, slim fingers bunching into the dress shirt covering his shoulders.

Seijuro pulled away when Furihata’s grip on his shirt tightened, signaling he needed air, and all it took was one glance at his face; eyes dazed with lust, heavily pink cheeks, and lips swollen with a trail of saliva connecting them, for him to snap. Mouth nearly watering, his lips immediately found their way to Kouki’s sensitive neck, and his pearly white teeth bit down hard, easily painting a new mark among the smattering of faded purple ones from past times. Furihata nearly collapsed into him, whimpering out broken calls of his name.

“Mine,” he growled, more to himself than anything, renewing the just-barely-there bruises left on Kouki’s neck. “All mine!” Pressing a few final feathery kisses to his collarbone, Seijuro once more connected their lips, wanting to claim as much of the omega as he could.

And so, into the afternoon, evening, and even past the sun’s setting, they went, leaving Furihata with much explaining to do the next day.


End file.
